Just Like His Daddy
by Crunch
Summary: I s’pose I’m meant to feel bad about being. . . how shall we call it. . . evil.


Just Like His Daddy~ by Crunch  
  
~*~  
  
We're rascals, scoundrels, villans and knaves, drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho! A Pirate's life for me. . .  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Ships log o' Captain Jack Sparrow, aboard his vessel, the mighty Black Pearl~  
  
~  
  
I s'pose I'm meant to feel bad about being. . . how shall we call it. . . evil.  
  
And by most standards I am, I'll cop to that. I don't think there's a vice I aint tried. You name it, I smoked, drank, stole or stabbed it outta some poor schlub in my way. Yeah, throw stones if you want to, it aint like you bilgerats is perfect. Don't say you never felt that thrum in your gut, heard your veins hum like livewires. . . heard the dark side calling to ya, whispering in your ear when you open your eyes to a brand new day, when you see that pretty little slip o' a thing passing by you on her way to chapel, or you pause in the light from a barkeeps' doorway on night so cold you could break the sky off in your hands. And don't say you never once answered.  
  
Some fellas go real willingly into the night, and others, they get dragged in by their ears, kicking and screaming the whole damn way. Me, I went peaceably enough. That was long ago, it was, but I figure I opened my arms wide and walked into it with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. Hell, a man such as me self's gotta work for everything he gets. Savvy? They say when fate closes a door, go in through a window. . . or some scum like that. All I know is, fate closes a door on me, I'll bust it back open with me pistol butt, claw it down with my bare, bleeding hands if I must. And it's a lot easier to do that if you aint afraid to go under the rules.  
  
Bootstrap Bill was different. He went screaming.  
  
I don't think he blamed me for it, not in the end. Use to though. . . he use to hate me for what I done to him. He never said so, of course. He was just a young thing, but he weren't stupid, not in the beginning, and not ever.  
  
But I could feel it. When he stood beside me, behind me, I could feel how much he hated me for what I done. He sent it off in waves, ya see.  
  
And I seen it in the boy's eyes. You ever seen Will's eyes, I mean really seen them? More often'n not, they're wide, and open, and the color the sky gets when the night runs black like India ink. Twilight, I think it's called. Yeah, that's it. That's what they are. That's the way Bootstrap's were.  
  
Except when he were mad, of course. Then they were thin and hard and deep deep black. I'd say it were ugly, but it wasn't. That'd be a lie, and I NEVER lie.  
  
Right. There I go again, don't I?  
  
Course, it never bothered me much, one way or the other. I been hated by boys a lot worse then Bill, and it don't even get by me, savvy? It don't go through me at all. Cause they always break, in the end. They see the good of what I done for them, they see how free I made them, and they love me for it. They may hate themselves, but they love me.  
  
Or they just fade away. And some of them do. . . my life aint for everyone. I never said it was easy. But hell, if you can, if you're tough enough and strong enough and quick enough, then this is life, ey? The open sea, the pirate's code. . . this is living, all the way up.  
  
Turns out Bill was stronger then anyone thought. Course, he got the best o' me in the end, didn't he? Watched from the riggings, he did, perched way up in the crow's nest as Barbossa, that beer-swilling scum, gave me a pistol and sent me packing right off the end of the plank. I did catch his eye, one last time before I hit the water. He was crying.  
  
Guess I aint done such a good job with him as I thought, did I?  
  
And come to find out years later, it were him who put one over on all me traitorous crew. Doomed 'em well, he did. Guess he had some good left in him. When I heard about him and his fate, I was camped out in Tortuga for a night or so. . . I met Anna Marie the next day, and you know THAT story. . . anyhow, heard it from a scallywag passing through. Thought he was a right fool, I did. Fancy a man dieing just for a little petty redemption! It aint natural! It sure isn't what I taught Bill to do, I'll say that.  
  
But I seen it coming, now that I think about it. See, right before Barbossa sent me headfirst into Davey Jones' locker, Bootstrap stood up to him, he did. Good thing Barbossa were busy with me, or Bootstrap might've been gutted right then and there. But right when that bilgerat made his move, there was a moment, just a moment, when young Bill stood beside me. In front o' me, in fact. I can still hear Barbossa growling. . .  
  
"What d'you think your doin', Bootstrap?"  
  
And you know what the blighter said?  
  
"I'm standin' here, between you an' Jack."  
  
Fancy that. Course, then Barbossa tells him he's either with him or against him, and if he were against him, then little Bootstrap jr. weren't gonna have a daddy come daybreak. So Bootstrap stepped aside; maybe for his son, maybe for the treasure. Who knows? Though it seems that the Turners have a bit o' a penchant for damning what I taught 'em about pirates and standing by me all the same. And so the story goes. . .  
  
*You forget your place, Turner.*  
  
*It's right here. Between you and Jack.*  
  
I weren't lieing, when I said what I said on the ship- not that time. Will really does look just like his daddy. Just like him.  
  
Savvy?  
  
I asked Bill to come with me, all those years ago. I didn't ask the boy to come. Course, it would o' been difficult to persuade him to leave Elizabeth and jump to his doom, on a prayer that a ship be waiting round the bend. But he might have done it, he just might have. So I didn't ask.  
  
Per'aps I'll hang up me hat for a bit, just sail the tides, live and die for freedom. For a little while, anyways. A day or two at least. Crime don't seem to be payin' much for me anyways, do it?  
  
~*~  
  
Well? I'm not sure whether I like it or not, but what say the masses? Any replies/comments/ white-hot flames of doooom can reach me in a REVIEW once you hit the REVIEW button and leave your REVIEW. *cough* 


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